To Grieve, Learn and Let Go (Pedro Pascal/Joel Miller Inspired Story)

Babygirl, Mia

"I don't really care, and I don't want to hear it."

People are coming to the elevator, and they are looking at us in weird ways. I don't want to make it seem like I'm the one who's being the agitator or the one who's being a complete bitch to a random white person. I should avoid any unwanted attention or else I'll get kicked out and officially not have a place to stay.

"Okay, fine, we can talk." I say to him, and a small smile spread across his rugged face. We both step away from the elevator and people pass by to get in.

"Let's go and have a bite somewhere to talk." He sounds very enthusiastic for some reason. "How about that bistro that's right near Rockefeller?"

"It's wherever."

"Bistro it is. Come on, I have my car parked outside."

Outside of the hotel, the busy streets filled with yellow taxis and cabs and each or either dropping off or picking up passengers. It's a little less warm and the gray clouds in the sky are providing enough shade to cool everything down. Which also means that rain is coming soon. I check my phone to check the weather and it says rain will arrive approximately after seven. It's ten minutes close to four. Hopefully I'm back at the hotel and don't have to see my dad's face after he's talked to me.

I follow behind my dad as we walk the semi crowded sidewalk. He's looking back every few seconds to make sure I'm following behind him.

He slows down a little and turns halfway to me, smiling at me. "Come on, baby girl, get beside me."

"I'm fine." Keeping my face as stern as possible.

"Alright then." He says, sounding a little hurt, which didn't really matter to me. He turns around and goes back to a normal pace.

I can't help but to take notice of how he's walking. He's not slumping or showing any signs of exhaustion. He seems to be walking fine. For a man his age, I expected him to be walking with a limp.

His car is parked by one of those parking meters in front of a parked taxi. It's a dark gray Toyota. It looks well taken care of.

He checks the meter, and I can see him smile with satisfaction as he says, "Whew, got here just in time for it to run out. Got five minutes to spare." He claps his hands together, acting a little too happy.

He takes out a set of keys from his back pocket and unlocks the doors to his car. I go around the other side to the back seats of his car but as soon as I'm about to place a hand on the door, I hear him say, "Not gonna ride shotgun, Mia?"

I don't give him a glance. I open the door and in an instant dread sweep over me. There were two duffle bags taking both seats, and that only meant that I had to sit in the front. I sigh and close the door as I come to the passenger's door. I hop in and close the door, put on the seat belt, cross my arms and I wait for him. His car smells nice with that oaky and earthy scented car air freshener. I see him slide into the driver's seat, closing the door and locking all the doors.

He slides a phone out of his back pocket, and it is a nice looking one. It's the new iPhone that just came out. I wanted one but I didn't have the funds to even save one. At least I have a functioning phone.

He opens the screen to his phone with a pin, and to my surprise, it was my birthday he had used to lock it. I look away and draw my attention to the bustling street and in moments I hear his phone do a clicking sound. I turn my head and see he has put his phone on a phone holder and a map is showing directions to the bistro. The bistro is down the street, so I don't see why he has to use the map.

He chuckles sheepishly as he scratches his head and turns on the car engine. "I know that bistro is just a couple of blocks down but I'm an old fart, so I need navigation. Especially in this big city." There is a bit of silence in the car. I guess he wants me to laugh or say something. Sadly, the silence is not broken, so he puts on his seatbelt, grips the steering wheel, turns his back and  backs the car out of the parking space.

He double checks the area and I see him squinting his eyes as he backs the car once more, and he again chuckles sheepishly. "Don't worry, your old man's eyes are working." He says humorously.

The cologne and perhaps deodorant he's wearing thankfully is not making me nauseous, unlike most people who don't like to put on deodorant on hot summer days like this. But what's making me feel more awkward is how close he is. Being this close in proximity to the one who's been absent from my life is bringing in some very unsettling and depressing feelings.

"Okay, there we go!" And he sighs with satisfaction and does a random yet silly shimmy. "Let's put on the AC. It's a little warm in here, isn't it?" He turns on the AC, and I can feel the cold air blowing on me, relieving me.

When he's finished backing up the car, he puts the gear on the driver, turns the steering wheel to the right and we're on our way to the bistro. I wonder how this short ride is going to turn out.